


If There's Something

by walkalittleline



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, episode 64 spoilers, reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 18:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18946078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkalittleline/pseuds/walkalittleline
Summary: All he can see when he closes his eyes, though, is Caleb. Limp and drenched in black ichor and his own blood, eyes vacant as that creature tightened its clawed limbs around his lifeless body. It brings a sour, irony taste to his mouth and a burn to his throat that’s not unfamiliar entirely, but foreign in the current context.





	If There's Something

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for the crumbs, Taliesin

He’s not sure how long he’s been lying awake when he finally gives up on sleep, slipping silently from his bedroll where he’s squashed between Yasha and Beau and stepping out of the dome into the open air. He tries not to think of what a bad idea it is for him to be out here alone with the others asleep, but the moorbounders are curled in a pile nearby, snoring loudly, so he’s not too worried for his own safety at the moment.

Taking a seat on a flat space of dirt, he folds his legs under himself and stares up at the inky sky, scattered with pinpricks of stars and a sliver of moonlight peeking between the clouds periodically. He closes his eyes and breathes in slowly, trying to gather the calm around him into his own chest to still the nervous thump of his heart. All he can see when he closes his eyes, though, is Caleb. Limp and drenched in black ichor and his own blood, eyes vacant as that creature tightened its clawed limbs around his lifeless body. It brings a sour, irony taste to his mouth and a burn to his throat that’s not unfamiliar entirely, but foreign in the current context.

His ears perk up and back automatically at the gentle tread of footsteps behind him and something leaps nervously in his stomach, sinking back with what he thinks might be disappointed when it’s Fjord’s low drawl he hears approaching rather than a soft Zemnian accent.

“Can’t sleep?” he says as he reaches Caduceus’ side, arms folded loosely across his chest.

Caduceus grunts in assent and Fjord sinks down to the ground to sit next to him with a sigh.

“Yeah, me neither,” he mutters. He runs his fingers through his short cropped hair absently. “Something on your mind?”

Caduceus makes a vague noise in response but doesn’t speak otherwise. They sit in comfortable silence for a minute or two before Caduceus feels the words bubbling up in his throat, rolling around in his mouth and out through his lips before he can stop them.

“Mister Fjord, can I ask you a question?” he says carefully.

“Mm, shoot,” Fjord replies with a kind smile.

“You and Miss Jester—“ he feels Fjord still next to him, “—are the two of you… romantically involved?”

He glances sideways at Fjord, picking out the darkening of his cheeks even in the dim light. Fjord clears his throat awkwardly, brow furrowed.

“Oh, well,” he says gruffly, “I mean, Jester’s very nice and special and, of course I care about her a lot, but I wouldn’t—I mean, we haven’t really—you gotta let these things play their course, you know?” He finishes feebly, still avoiding Caduceus’ questioning gaze.

He clears his throat a little more firmly and looks to Caduceus at last. “Why do you ask?” he says. “I was kind of under the impression that sort of thing didn’t interest you.”

Caduceus shrugs. “It’s not at the top of my list of priorities at the moment,” he says honestly. “But… I’m not against it. Never really thought about it a lot, I guess.”

“Are you… thinking about it now?” Fjord asks cautiously.

“Maybe,” Caduceus replies pensively.

“Alright,” Fjord says, sounding faintly impatient, curious. “Can I ask who you’re—“

“Caleb,” Caduceus says before he can ask the question.

“Oh? _Oh_! Ohhh…” Fjord nods, lips pursed and eyes narrowed speculatively at him. “Hm, yeah okay.” He scratches absently at his chin. “Was it just today you realized it?”

“I don’t know,” Caduceus says quietly, tucking his legs up to his chest and folding his arms across them, resting his chin on his forearm. “Maybe?”

He tries to think back to the many other times he’s seen Caleb hurt. They’d always affected him, of course he’d be upset by his friends being close to death. But there was something about _this time_ that had felt entirely different. That sick, roiling feeling in his stomach when Caleb had writhed in the creature’s grip before going limp as a doll, eyes rolling back and jaw lolling open. The feeling that all the blood had drained from him to be replaced by deep, icy dread, the single-minded drive to get to Caleb, _save Caleb_ , _he’s dying._

And when he’d stumbled forward and pressed his hand to Caleb’s chest to dump that healing energy into him, he’d barely been able to savor hearing Caleb take a harsh, ragged inhale as his eyes flew open again before he turning to stand protectively over him, his hands shaking so badly he could barely keep a grip on his staff. He feels a faint tremor in his fingers even now and curls his hands into fists to try and stop it.

“So, what do you want to do about it?” Fjord says with a neutral sort of curiosity.

Caduceus mulls over the question, frowning.

“I’m… not sure,” he says. He thinks to seeing Fjord kiss Jester on the cheek earlier that evening in the midst of battle, the wide-eyed, flustered look on her face when he’d done it. He wonders what it might be like to do the same to Caleb, how he would have reacted if Caduceus had scooped him up and wiped the gore from his mouth to press their lips together. The very idea makes him feel dizzy, warmth blooming across his cheeks.

“Do you _want_ to do anything about it?”

“I don’t know,” Caduceus sighs, shrugging. “I don’t want to make things awkward if he doesn’t feel the same way.”

Fjord hums in understanding.

“Doesn’t hurt to talk about it,” he says sensibly.

Caduceus makes a noncommittal noise and fidgets with the hem of his sleeve.

“Well, think about it, I guess,” Fjord says after a long stretch of silence, standing up and clapping Caduceus on the shoulder. “Try and get some sleep, yeah?”

Caduceus nods, smiling gratefully up at him before looking back out across the flat landscape stretching to the distant horizon. He sits for another twenty minutes before heading back into the dome, glancing at Caleb where he’s curled up on Beau’s other side fast asleep, looking drawn and exhausted, blood still speckled at his hairline. He settles back in his spot, wincing a little when Beau snuffles in her sleep and snores loudly in his ear.

It’s still a little jarring seeing the sun again after their time in Rosohna, but Caduceus savors the warmth of it on his skin when they gather their things the following morning, eager to finish their trek across the Barbed Fields to Bazzoxan. He rolls up his bedding and straps it to the side of his moorbounder alongside Yasha’s pack, laughing quietly when Clarabelle licks a thick trail of saliva up the side of his face and snuffles his shoulder in what he imagines is intended to be an affectionate gesture but that almost knocks him off his feet.

He wipes his cheek with his sleeve and pats her on the hunched shoulder, glancing over her head and starting when he meets Caleb’s eyes where he’s standing by his own moorbounder, watching him with an indecipherable expression. He turns back to tightening his saddle wordlessly and Caduceus feels his ears droop.

“Feeling alright, Mister Caleb?” he says.

Caleb looks back at him, looking surprised by the question but nodding.

“ _Ja_ ,” he mutters. He clears his throat. “Thank you, by the way. For yesterday.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Caduceus replies, watching the corners of Caleb’s lips turn up in a small smile before he looks away from Caduceus again.

Caduceus glances helplessly at Fjord, who’s watching their conversation from ten feet away with mild amusement. He nods encouragingly and Caduceus squares his shoulders, tugging the last strap on his saddle tight before stepping around Clarabelle to Caleb. He lays his hand on his shoulder and Caleb jumps, turning to face him with a curious look.

He opens his mouth as if to speak but Caduceus takes his face in both hands and tilts his head up to kiss him firmly before he can. He feels Caleb freeze, his hands raising but not pushing him off, though Caduceus isn’t sure it’s out of shock or something else, merely closes his eyes and allows himself a couple of seconds to enjoy the softness of Caleb’s lips against his own before pulling back, exhaling shakily.

Caleb stares up at him, eyes wide and stunned, lips parted in disbelief. The tip of his tongue pokes between his lips as he wets them, throat bobbing when he swallows.

“Oh,” he breathes, voice soft and distant. “I, um…”

“Ah,” Caduceus mutters, drawing his hands away and taking a step backwards from him, feeling the other’s eyes on him. “Sorry.”

Caleb blinks mutely at him, still looking confused and thrown off-balance. Caduceus turns away from him, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously at the absolute silence as the rest of the group gapes at him. He glances at Fjord, who looks as shocked as the rest of them but, maybe, a little impressed as well. Caduceus slouches back to Clarabelle and busies himself with checking his saddle again, feeling heat flood his face.

“Right,” Fjord says loudly, “we best head out if we want to make good time. Let’s get going.”

Caduceus gives him a grateful look as the others go back to packing and grumbling amongst themselves. Fjord nods and winks at him reassuringly.

He can feel Caleb’s eyes on him as he swings into the saddle and helps Yasha up behind him, keeping his gaze forward as he clicks his tongue and the three moorbounders set off in their familiar, leaping strides, letting Clarabelle fall into step behind the others. He feels Yasha’s hand on his waist and half-glances of his shoulder at her.

“That was sweet,” she says in his ear, the smile clear in her voice. “You ought to talk to him about it, though.”

Caduceus nods in agreement and glances ahead at where Caleb is bent over his moorbounder between Nott and Beau, brow furrowed in thought.

“We’ll make sure you get a chance,” Yasha says, patting his back gently before returning her grip to his rib cage.

Caduceus nods again and briefly touches the back of her hand in silent thanks before gripping the reins tightly again, glad for the long ride ahead to give him a chance to think and try and figure out what exactly he’s supposed to say to Caleb when the chance comes.


End file.
